


exclusive

by calamythies



Series: silk and wine [3]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: (?), Ambiguous/Open Ending, Denial of Feelings, M/M, Porn with Feelings, i think? yeah, slight angst!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:20:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23667526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calamythies/pseuds/calamythies
Summary: Jeonghan can’t help but roll his eyes in response. “You’re too full of yourself, Moon Junhui,” he says, but his focus moves from Junhui’s face to look down, and he runs his tongue over his lower lip, a corner curving up coyly. “And yet you’re so hard for me already.”Junhui’s hands rest upon Jeonghan’s hips, and he lets out a chuckle. “And when did I ever deny I wanted you, Jeonghan?”Jeonghan’s heart skips a beat — and he supposes that’s the moment he believes he’s fucked.
Relationships: Wen Jun Hui | Jun/Yoon Jeonghan
Series: silk and wine [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1910965
Comments: 8
Kudos: 65





	exclusive

**Author's Note:**

> haha this is what happens when someone gives me a prompt at 4AM

Jeonghan opens his eyes to find that he’s alone.

That isn’t surprising at all — but there’s something heavy that hangs in his chest. He’s all alone in a king sized bed, far too big for his size, and the sheets entangle with his limbs. When he pushes himself upwards, the silk robe he adorns slides down a shoulder, revealing his skin that’s decorated by love bites, courtesy of the man who owns the bed he’s currently laying upon, of course. He feels rather sore, but even that begins to feel like the normal. It’s one of the same many nights, and like those other nights, he finds himself unable to fall asleep. Not like this. Not alone.

That thought makes his heart feel heavier.

Lazily pulling the robe back up to his shoulder, he slides out of the bed and heads to the chair by the window. There’s an open bottle of wine by the table, to which he helps himself with. He remembers Junhui’s words — everything that the mansion has, Jeonghan can touch; everything that Jeonghan may want, Junhui will give. And so he watches as the red liquid pours into the clear glass, eyes unblinking, his thoughts scattering.

There are far too many things to think about. He purses his lips as he brings the glass of wine to his lips, its saccharine taste coloring the soft flesh. This set-up they have — whatever this  _ thing _ should be called — Jeonghan isn’t even certain if it should continue as it is. There are far more uncertainties than there are promises. Why, he doesn’t even know what  _ thing _ this is. It started as a one-night stand, the two having met at that fancy bar that Jeonghan works at. He’d meant to leave Junhui’s life the morning after — after all, it’s nothing more than sex. It’s nothing more than a temporary company in exchange for pleasure. It’s nothing more than what Jeonghan’s used to.

But when Junhui came back to the bar once more, Jeonghan had found himself in the man’s bed once more, skin pressed against satin, sweat down his skin.

It didn’t stop there. More nights follow, and Jeonghan finds himself tonight once more, awakening alone in Junhui’s bed. He doesn’t know what they’re supposed to be — or if there’s even a  _ thing _ to begin with. Exclusivity had never been in Junhui’s vocabulary. Even before Jeonghan’s appearance in his life, Junhui has been someone known for having a different man or woman in his bed every night. Jeonghan knows, because it’s all what Mingyu talks about after getting a chance to sleep with the man with a prince-like charm that everyone absolutely adores.

Jeonghan himself isn’t one for commitments. When he’d met Junhui — the ever so charming man that has so easily managed to sweep Jeonghan off his feet — all Jeonghan thought about was that he wanted to bed Junhui. Nothing more, nothing less. Such is — or used to be — the norm with him. Exclusivity has never been  _ their _ thing. There’s no commitment. There’s no promises, no contracts — no nothing.

Junhui always has—or should have someone new every night in his bed, but that stopped once the two of them met.

Neither of them brought it up. Not even the people Jeonghan met through Junhui’s parties. Not even when he’s introduced as Junhui’s partner. 

Jeonghan pauses at his thoughts. Is he really, though?

Is he really Junhui’s partner? But by partner, what does Junhui mean by it? Why introduce someone that’s meant to be a fling as a partner? There’s nothing that connects the two of them other than sex — if Jeonghan chooses to ignore all the little moments in bed and the morning afters; if he chooses the implications behind Junhui’s words. 

Because what happens if he acknowledges them? What happens if he asks? What happens  _ then? _

Jeonghan only notices that his glass is empty when he raises it to his lips and there’s nothing that flows through scarlet tiers. With a soft sigh, he places the glass down — and the bedroom door opens quietly. The way he turns his head to face his visitor feels a little too quick for him.

Junhui steps inside dressed in the same silky robe, and he blinks in surprise when he finds Jeonghan awake, though he eyes the expanse of skin exposed to him, most likely admiring the marks he left. “Having trouble sleeping, love?” 

Jeonghan ignores the thump of his heart at the endearment. Junhui uses that a lot, Jeonghan tells himself. Junhui uses that with whoever he sleeps with, and Jeonghan isn’t  _ anything _ special. “You can say that,” he says. “The bed felt too big for me. It’s hard to sleep when you’re alone in such a huge bed.”

This causes Junhui to raise an eyebrow. Jeonghan wonders if he shouldn’t have said that. Junhui walks closer to where Jeonghan sits, but Jeonghan stands to meet him halfway. “Did you want me to accompany you for the rest of the night?” Junhui asks, a corner of his lips curling upwards as he meets Jeonghan’s gaze.

Jeonghan wraps his arms loosely around Junhui’s shoulders, and Junhui’s response is almost automatic as he holds onto Jeonghan’s waist, one thumb rubbing against the silk. Jeonghan hums, “I’m not opposed to that.”

Junhui chuckles. “Well, I’ll have to satisfy the princess’ desires then, don’t I?” 

Jeonghan can only scoff at the other’s words before Junhui dips his head down, and places his lips against Jeonghan’s. Jeonghan welcomes the kiss far too easily, their lips moving against one another in a slow, languid movement. Jeonghan’s thoughts from earlier immediately disappear — only replaced by the thought of  _ I’m at the point where I can’t stop, huh?  _ — and Jeonghan pulls away, only to lead Junhui to the bed, pushing the latter gently to sit. Junhui leans his back against the headboard, and Jeonghan slides into the other’s lap all too easily.

Once Jeonghan’s seated, their lips connect once more. It’s slow, almost lazy, but Jeonghan enjoys it all the same. He finds that he enjoys any sort of kiss from the lad, no matter how slow or passionate it is. Junhui’s hands roam Jeonghan’s body, and they find the loose belt of Jeonghan’s robe, pulling at it to undo. His palms then glide upwards, rubbing against Jeonghan’s erect buds — and Jeonghan sighs into the kiss. Jeonghan rolls his hips tentatively, their crotches meeting, eliciting a groan from his partner. 

Jeonghan pulls away from the liplock to rest his forehead on Junhui’s shoulder, one hand grasping onto the other side as Junhui’s move southward. The latter holds onto Jeonghan’s hip, while the other hand moves to his length. The warmth of Junhui’s hold has Jeonghan biting his lower lip, and when Junhui strokes Jeonghan all too gently, Jeonghan almost buckles his hips, almost thrusts into the hand as his toes lightly curl in sensitivity.

“Let your voice out, baby,” Junhui utters by Jeonghan’s ear, his breath tickling the skin. “Let me hear your pretty voice.”

As if to pull the noises out of Jeonghan’s lips, Junhui’s pace quickens a little, and Jeonghan knows that Junhui  _ knows _ exactly just how spent he is from their session earlier. Whimpers fall out from Jeonghan’s lips, Junhui’s name a broken mantra on his tongue as Jeonghan’s fingers dig into Junhui’s robe. Jeonghan’s arousal is hard and feels even warmer engulfed by Junhui’s palm, needy under Junhui’s touch. 

Junhui only seems to want to hear more from Jeonghan’s lips — and Jeonghan’s all too tempted to let himself reach his peak already, but he wants something  _ more _ than Junhui’s hand.

“W-Wait—” Jeonghan’s hand slides from Junhui’s shoulder to Junhui’s hand by his cock as he breathes the word weakly, and Jeonghan leans away to face him. “I… Let me ride you.”

Junhui stops, and both amusement and desire glint in his eyes when he meets Jeonghan’s eyes. “Are you sure you can?”

Jeonghan’s cheeks flush at the implications, and he hits Junhui’s shoulder lightly. “Shut up, of course I can!” So what if he cried earlier out of sheer pleasure and sensitivity? That isn’t going to stop him from getting what he wants — and that is to ride Junhui until the man shuts up.

Junhui only laughs as he helps Jeonghan undo the belt of his own robe, pushing the silk to his sides. “I just wanted to make sure you aren’t pushing yourself, love.” 

Jeonghan can’t help but roll his eyes in response. “You’re too full of yourself, Moon Junhui,” he says, but his focus moves from Junhui’s face to look down, and he runs his tongue over his lower lip, a corner curving up coyly. “And yet you’re so hard for me already.”

Junhui’s hands rest upon Jeonghan’s hips, and he lets out a chuckle. “And when did I ever deny I wanted you, Jeonghan?”

Jeonghan’s heart skips a beat — and he supposes that’s the moment he believes he’s  _ fucked. _

The nicknames are dropped, and Jeonghan’s name  _ always _ sounds prettier when it’s from Junhui’s tongue. But Junhui’s got a point — he has never denied such. Junhui is far too honest with his desires, yet reveals none of what he actually wants. Jeonghan doesn’t know where he stands lately.

But Jeonghan pushes those thoughts away, and he leans in to press a kiss upon Junhui’s lips, lifting his hips as he does so. When their brief kiss breaks, Jeonghan holds onto the headboard, and Junhui pushes away Jeonghan’s robe just enough for him to guide Jeonghan’s entrance by the tip of his length. He rubs the tip against Jeonghan’s rims first, feeling the tremble that spreads throughout Jeonghan’s body, and he pulls Jeonghan’s body down, his shaft slowly sliding into Jeonghan’s hole.

A soft shaky gasp breaks from Jeonghan’s lips as he feels so, so stretched, his lips hanging open. “J-Junhui—” he breathes out, eyes unable to focus on one place as they roll slightly upwards. He may have miscalculated — perhaps he really is  _ still _ too sensitive for another round.

But he’d take overstimulation over his worries any day.

Junhui grunts as Jeonghan takes more and more of the other’s length, until Junhui’s too deep inside him. It takes Jeonghan a moment to adjust, thighs quivering lightly on both of Junhui’s sides. Junhui guides Jeonghan’s arms around the former’s shoulders, his own loosely wrapping around Jeonghan’s waist afterwards. “Are you okay, baby?” Junhui asks softly, pressing a kiss onto Jeonghan’s neck.

Jeonghan only nods in response, before he begins to move. His pace is steady, gentle — a slow and almost rhythmic bounce of his body. He’s taking his time. After all, don’t they have the whole night?

The silence of the night is broken, ignored, as soft, low noises erupt from the lovers’ lips, slowly filling the room. Junhui doesn’t hurry at all. He simply holds onto Jeonghan’s waist, as though letting the other take charge of their current flow. Jeonghan takes it, and he leans away a little, holding onto the headboard instead as his pace takes a slightly faster speed. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Junhui says as he watches Jeonghan pleasure himself using Junhui. Jeonghan clenches around Junhui at the praise, and he tilts his chin upwards, lips parted wide. “You’re so, so pretty doing this, my love.”

It’s there again — the praises, the tone that almost seems as though there  _ is _ something behind his words. It’s there again — the emotion that mixes in with Junhui’s lust in his eyes. It’s there again — and Jeonghan feels overwhelmed, his chest  _ bursting. _

Perhaps the high from earlier hasn’t left him yet. Perhaps it’s something else — but passion overtakes Jeonghan almost too easily with the other’s words, and he leans forwards, capturing Junhui’s lips with his as he rolls his hips instead. Junhui returns the kiss with… something  _ more _ that surprises Jeonghan — and yet he cannot pinpoint what it is. 

All he knows is that the two of them are too high from ecstacy and their desire for one another.

Yes. Even as Junhui holds onto Jeonghan’s bottoms and moves so that Jeonghan’s back is against the mattress once more, golden locks spilled as a contrast to the dark sheets; even as Jeonghan melts against Junhui’s kisses, his slow, deep thrusts into Jeonghan; even as Junhui takes Jeonghan’s hand by the side of the latter’s head, holding him securely and all throughout their high—

—Yes. This is just pleasure, isn’t it?

Jeonghan doesn’t want to know why his heart feels as though there’s something gripping his heart at the thought.

Jeonghan reaches his climax first — all too sensitive, all too quickly. His climax comes after loud whimpers of Junhui’s name on his tongue; after Junhui murmurs,  _ “come for me, baby,” _ against the skin of his neck,  _ “show me how much you want this,” _ by his ear. His peak comes with a tear down his cheek and Junhui’s name long and drawn from his parted lips, his nails digging into Junhui’s knuckles and the skin of his back. It comes with a beautiful arch of his back, and this only encourages Junhui to move faster.

The two of them have known each other enough to know that the soft cries of  _ stop _ and  _ no more _ that fall out of Jeonghan’s lips don’t really mean anything, when all Jeonghan wants is  _ more, more _ and  _ more _ of what Junhui has to offer — of what he can give. Jeonghan wants  _ everything _ .

And Junhui gives it to him with a choked moan of Jeonghan’s name. Junhui’s hips stutter against Jeonghan, the man’s juices spilling inside the latter. Jeonghan takes it — takes everything as he pulls Junhui’s face to his, fingers entangling with Junhui’s dark hair. Their lips meet with more urgency, more passion — and Jeonghan feels too light as Junhui’s tongue ravish his mouth.

When Junhui pulls away, they’re both panting. When Jeonghan meets Junhui’s eyes, his breath is taken away. It’s there again — that emotion Jeonghan doesn’t understand, and he has to avert his gaze. 

_ Why? Why are you looking at me like that? _

There’s no answer, of course. 

Perhaps it’s Junhui leaning down to press a feathery kiss upon Jeonghan’s forehead. Perhaps it’s Junhui helping Jeonghan clean up when the latter is all too tired and all too spent. Perhaps it’s Junhui holding Jeonghan close as they lay on bed, Jeonghan’s head tucked under Junhui’s chin, and Jeonghan feels too comfortable in Junhui’s embrace.

Perhaps it’s all of this. Or perhaps none of it at all. Maybe he’s reading too much into things. They aren’t exclusive to one another. There’s no clean lines, no commitments, no words of vows. No nothing.

But when morning comes and Jeonghan opens his eyes, he finds that he isn’t alone.

This time, Junhui lies beside him, skin glowing under the sunlight that peeks through the curtains of Junhui’s huge window. He’s sleeping peacefully with an arm around Jeonghan’s torso. Their robes are neat enough for men who have gone to sleep, but Jeonghan finds himself getting lost staring at Junhui’s lashes. They’re long and almost feminine. It’s unfair how a man can be so pretty even while sleeping.

Jeonghan moves a hand toward Junhui’s face and wonders again for the nth time —  _ just what are we? _

When his fingertips touch Junhui’s cheek, Junhui stirs and Jeonghan freezes in his place. Junhui’s eyes flutter open, and he easily finds his focus on Jeonghan’s eyes. The smile that forms on Junhui’s lips is all too natural, and Jeonghan feels  _ warm. _

“Having fun looking at me?” Junhui says, a cheeky grin on his lips albeit his sleepy eyes.

“Oh, shut up.” 

Junhui laughs, and Jeonghan finds himself smiling along.

Maybe — just maybe — Jeonghan doesn’t mind this sort of thing to be a certain part of his life.


End file.
